


head of feathers, heart of lead

by Katbelle



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brain Damage, Brain Surgery, Gen, Head Injury, Hurt Matt Murdock, Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-25 06:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17116430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katbelle/pseuds/Katbelle
Summary: Nobody survives being crushed by a building and walks away without a few issues. And while Matt is - or seems - physically fine, Foggy and Karen suspect his brain might be turning to mush.It's a little more complicated than that."I said that we're concerned for his well-being and that his refusal to do anything is making us lose sleep at night.""Saying you think his brain is atrophying might have been better."





	head of feathers, heart of lead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bramblues (vanahymns)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanahymns/gifts).



> Dear Recipient, happy holidays! I focused more on the potential traumatic brain injury that having a building fall on your head might cause, I hope you forgive me that and I hope that you'll enjoy nonetheless!

**brain of feathers, heart of lead**

 

They don't settle in as quickly as Foggy would have hoped.

It's something he should have expected. It was one thing to be a freshly-out-of-L&Z former intern intent on building his own practice with his best friend. That was easy. That was easy, and comfortable, and nice, because at that time his and Matt's priorities were still aligned and their worldviews similar and their methods pure. But they're not those people anymore. There is an ocean of things they have not been – and are not – talking about, baggage that will take them years to unpack. Their views are different. Their experience up to now – different. Foggy's had corporate clients and assholes and Luke Cage in his portfolio, Matt has had a building fall on him. It's impossible to compare.

Karen makes an effort. God bless Karen. Once the dust settles over the Wilson Fisk case redux, once the exhilaration over their joint win fades away, they're all faced with the awkwardness of trying to find a way to fit and work together. It's not easy or comfortable or nice. They don't keep secrets from each other anymore – at least Foggy hopes so – but it's still tough. They're not... compatible, in the most common sense of the word. Karen is a respected journalist, no matter her firing from _The Bulletin_ , and since the dissolution of the first Nelson & Murdock she grew so far beyond them, beyond simply Matt and Foggy and their little office, that she's both unwilling and incapable of going back to how they were. And she's not going to be their Jessica Jones, that's for sure. She is good at digging. But Foggy also knows, knows and accepts, the fact that she's not so good at digging and then handing over that information. She's a woman of action. Unless she finds a niche for herself in this new world of theirs, she won't be long for the new office.

The new office. Yes, Karen first made an effort to see if they could get their old space back – nope, no way, a beauty salon popped up there and was not going to move – and then scoured Hell's Kitchen in hopes of finding something better. Their new place is way better than their first office, which – despite everything – Foggy remembers very fondly, but is still a major downgrade from the offices of Hogarth & Associates. It takes Foggy a month to get used to again having a cramped space, and he doesn't stop missing his view and his conference room and his fancy coffee bar. He sometimes even misses Hogarth's snark; the worst thing about leaving her firm was having to tell her, and the look of pitying disappointment that she gave him once he informed her of his decision to quit. She plucked him from Chao & Benowitz on her way out, no doubt because of his involvement in and expertise on several vigilante/superhero/people with abilities cases as that was the issue she wanted her new office to lead on. She might have never said that out loud, but Foggy knew she had hopes for him. Maybe they weren't high. Maybe even they weren't what he himself would have envisioned for him. But she did have a plan and Foggy _knows_ that he would have greatly benefited from that plan.

But it was not meant to be, and he realized that in the bar, the moment Matt told him it was real. He missed Matt. He missed working with Matt, he missed Matt making him a better person. It was nothing he hadn't told Marci before. And when Matt turned up alive – _alive_ , after having a building fall on him, after being dead for half a year – it felt like someone was finally giving Foggy a break, as if his unvoiced pleas and prayers have been answered and he got a second chance. He wasn't going to waste it. This time it would work out.

A very optimistic notion which remained to be seen.

Their new office is in a new building, erected over the ashes of the Avengers' fight with alien invaders almost seven years prior, a testament to both the city's resilience and to opportunities that created people like Wilson Fisk and sent Foggy's life down a crazy rabbit hole in the first place. Three private rooms, a decently large conference room and a small kitchen. The view is crap, but the rent is nice, and after working for Hogarth Foggy now knows a bunch of people who'd gladly trade Hogarth's name for Foggy's more affordable pay rate. It's all working out on the economic front at least.

It's working out... less fine on the personal front. Foggy's _glad_ that the secrets are done with, and that both Matt and Karen now inform him of all their terrible ideas, it makes damage control easier. But secretly, Foggy longs for the simplicity of his Hogarth & Associate days when most of his days did not begin with bleeding.

"What happened?" Foggy asks, already tired despite it being 7:30 am, as he walks into their little kitchen.

Matt is there, making coffee, and he only answers once he's done stirring the milk in. "What do you mean?"

Foggy points at his head. "You're bleeding from your left ear." Matt immediately drops the spoon and raises a hand to his left ear, dibbing fingertips in the thin trickle of blood oozing from the ear. "Ears are not known to spontaneously start bleeding so I assume there's a reason."

Matt grimaces and drops his hand. Foggy can see the inner conflict reflected on his face, he's torn between his desire to be honest with Foggy in this new version of their friendship and partnership, and his deeply ingrained compulsion to lie and not be a bother. In the end, the friendship wins, because Matt says, "I hit my head yesterday when I was chasing a lead on Roddenbaum."

Roddenbaum is technically connected to their current case through some shady gangster deal made by their client's wife's great-uncle in a time before Matt or Foggy were even born. Foggy doubts the importance of that connection in what seems to be a simple dog-bit-neighbour case, but Karen was very proud of herself when she dug that up and Matt, well, all Matt needs is an excuse to go beat up some bad guys.

"It's nothing," Matt assures him with a smile, and for a moment it does feel like old times, but then Foggy remembers that in the good old times he was constantly kept in the dark while Matt went and got a building dropped on his head, so perhaps this is better, after all.

***

Foggy is certain there is something wrong with Matt.

Upon insistent prodding, Matt finally caved in and told him about his miraculous survival of the Midland Circle explosion. Yes, he somehow ended up on the riverbank, probably escaped through the sewers but doesn't remember due to head trauma. Yes, Foggy, it sounds plausible enough. (Foggy has his own theory, but doesn't voice it. A mere building collapse would not stop a zombie, right? But Matt seems better on the whole Elektra front, so Foggy keeps his mouth shut.) He was brought to the convent where he grew up, the nuns took care of him – they're good nuns, Fog – he got better. The end.

Oh, by the way, Foggy, that one nun turned out to be my biological mother that I've thought dead my entire life. Funny how those things work out, eh?

Foggy and Matt will have to have a long conversation about Maggie at some point because Foggy is _certain_ that no one can be as fine with such a revelation as Matt appears to be, which can only mean that Matt is repressing and pretending, and that shit historically doesn't work with Matt Murdock. Foggy would rather have him explode in a controlled environment than somewhere on the street during a fight, where he could end up seriously hurting himself or someone else.

But that's a topic for another day. For now, Foggy is concerned with the level of care Matt got while under the care of Maggie and the nuns. The man had tons of concrete, steel and glass fall on his head. Nobody survives being crushed by a building and walks away without a few issues. And the thing is, Matt seems _fine_. He does sport an assortment of new scars, but he hasn't been crippled, is not in chronic pain (not that Foggy knows, anyway), is in full control of his limbs and is not missing any. It looks nothing short of a miracle, and had Foggy not been forced to attend Sunday school and been exposed to all the ugliest parts of Catholicism, he might even think so too. But Foggy prides himself on being not only a rational man, but also a brilliant lawyer so he knows that there's a catch somewhere.

He also knows that the nuns never took Matt to any hospital – he knows because for the first two weeks after Midland Circle he's been calling all of New York's ERs and hospitals daily, hoping that someone matching Matt's description might have popped up – so any recovery Matt did was in that blasted convent, away from actual medical doctors and medical equipment and medical tests. 

"You should go to a hospital," Foggy suggests one evening, after a third consecutive day of Matt having nosebleeds. On their own, nosebleeds are nothing too serious, Foggy remembers that Theo used to get them all the damn time in elementary school. But Theo also never had Matt's history of head trauma, so Foggy is understandably spooked and concerned in this case.

Matt, predictably, dismisses him. "Foggy, it's nothing. I'm fine."

It's late. They're sitting in their conference room, with boxes of half-eaten Chinese all around them, and are trying to figure out how the hell a dog figures into a hostile takeover of a company. Karen's off, at a mediation training at the New York City Bar Association. It's her second week; she caught them off-guard with her decision to pursue this over some professional PI training, but it seems that her name on their door inspired her to do more.

And, having an in-house mediator/arbitrator is way more useful than having an in-house investigator.

"Have you ever actually gone to see a doctor since you've started daredeviling?"

Matt cringes at the phrase, but he's getting used to it. Now that they've promised each other – or, well, Matt promised him seeing as Foggy never really kept anything from him – no more secrets, Foggy is done dancing around the topic and sugarcoating it. It's not 'your nighttime hobby', it's not 'running around dressed like an idiot', it's not 'that thing you do'. If Matt is going to continue doing it – and he is – then they're going to talk about it openly. It makes Matt more uncomfortable than Foggy to do it, which is a surprise, but it might have something to do with the thin layer of disapproval that clings to Foggy's voice every time they mention it. Foggy's trying, he is, but he's never going to fully approve of that shit. It's dangerous. It could get Matt killed.

Matt takes a moment to respond. "No."

"Matt. You get kicked and punched and hit all the time, including on your head. You had a building fall on you," and here Matt cringes again, he hates talking about Midland Circle the most, "you need to make sure you're fine."

"I am fine."

"You don't know that."

"I feel fine."

Foggy rolls his eyes. "And I feel like a supermodel, which doesn't change the fact that I'm not. Buddy," he says, trying to appeal to Matt's sense of guilt, "you've been bleeding a lot lately. I'm worried."

Which is nothing new. Foggy's been in various stages of worry about Matt ever since they met, and Matt knows that. But Matt also knows that this time, Foggy's worry is warranted and not misplaced. 

So of course, Matt tries to make light of it. "I haven't got kicked, punched or hit in a week, Foggy, even on the head. I'm really fine."

It's not even an uphill battle. It's a Mount Everest battle and you have to climb in the middle of winter with no equipment and no assistance, and also the mountain keeps growing bigger. Foggy gives up for now, resolving to regroup his arguments and launch an attack at a later date. "If you say so."

***

The problem with most diseases relating to brain trauma is that Matt has been exhibiting symptoms way before he started going out at night to get beaten up.

***

Foggy begins planning a full-on offensive when even Karen notices that something's off.

It's a slow day at the office, with two prospective new clients coming and going, and Karen's first official and certified mediation session later in the afternoon. Foggy's sitting in Karen's office, keeping her company while she prepared her mediator's opening statement and does not ask him for his thoughts or opinions. He's so engrossed in the brief he's reading that it takes him a full minute to realise that Karen stopped typing and is now staring blankly at a wall to her right.

"You okay?" he asks. "Do you want me to take a look at your opening?"

Karen shakes her head and doesn't take her eyes off the wall. Foggy glances that way too. It's Matt's office there, on the other side of the wall, where Matt is currently not sitting because he called in the morning saying he wasn't feeling well and was taking a day off. For once 'not feeling well' was not a code for some life-threatening Daredevil-related injury; Matt's been sneezing and coughing for most of the week and most likely succumbed finally to a cold.

"Don't you feel--" Karen trails off, then starts again, "Don't you feel that Matt is more... absent than usual?"

"Seeing as he's not present now..." Foggy quips because he can't help himself. He knows what Karen means. Absent-minded hadn't been a fitting description of Matt Murdock before, but now has become more apt. And that worries the hell out of Foggy. "Yeah," he admits after Karen shoots him a dirty look, "I do."

And it's true, too. Matt's been spending more time alone – even though their relationship recovered nicely and he had two people in the office who loved him and would support him – and even when he was with them, he'd stay silent, or just blank out for minutes at a time.

Karen closes the folder with her mediator's notes and leans back in her chair. The way they set up the new office, Karen ended up with the biggest room. Foggy's got the best view and Matt has a glorified broom closet, but doesn't mind; their offices are on two sides of Karen's, a deliberate set-up that would give them a sense of separation if they were ever to need it. Plus, Karen has always worked as a conduit between them, being closer to Foggy emotionally, but more aligned with Matt in terms of their rather violent worldview.

"I've been thinking about," Karen says, "about Midland Circle. All that weight crushing one's skull. And of all the times Matt joked about getting hit."

Foggy grimaces, but that is his life now. A no-secrets policy means he gets to be told about what happens when Matt goes out at night, and Matt gets to make terrible jokes that are not funny to anyone, but are supposed to make his injuries appear less significant.

"--done some reading," Karen's voice filters back in, "an average football player's career is a little over three years. How long has Matt been going out? Three and a half years? Sometimes every night? How many times do you think he was hit in the head? Or fell? Or was pushed out of a window? Not to mention having a whole building collapse on top of him."

"What are you saying?" Foggy knows exactly what she's saying.

"Over two hundred cases of CTE have been observed in football players. And Matt gets hurt way more than they do."

"It's impossible to diagnose CTE _in vivo_ ," Foggy points out because he's way ahead of Karen, he's done his research months ago, done his reading and his shuddering.

"The symptoms match," Karen counters. "And it could always be some other type of brain damage."

Of course the symptoms match. But the symptoms have been there even before Midland Circle, even before Daredevil. Matt has always been depressed – and Foggy isn't surprised, Matt's life has been a long line of shitty situations and people abandoning him. Suicidal – or at least self-sacrificing – tendencies have also been observed from the moment they met. For half a year after the Elektra affair in law school Foggy was worried that he'd come back to their dorm room one day to find Matt dead.

And the list goes on and on. Impulsive behaviour and emotional instability, both perfectly describe post-Daredevil Matt as well as law school Matt. Perhaps with post-Daredevil Matt it's easier to spot because this Matt stopped pretending while law school Matt was still concerned with keeping up appearances. Hell, even substance abuse is something Foggy knows Matt has a history of and continues to do. Only now his drug of choice is beating up lowlives.

But Karen didn't know Matt back in law school, when some of the lowest lows of his life occurred. To her it all seems new; to Foggy it's a second verse, same as the first.

"There is no cure for CTE."

Karen is undeterred. "There are treatments for symptoms."

"You'll never convince Matt to go to the hospital."

Karen purses her lips, clearly daring Foggy to try her.

***

Matt and Karen have an explosive argument the following week that – if Karen hadn't already made it clear that she's over Matt and that that ship has sailed – would have left them broken up and unlikely to further pursue any romantic entanglement. Accusations of 'breach of privacy' and 'insufferable meddling' and 'reckless idiocy' are thrown around.

"He's an idiot," Karen declares, storming into Foggy's office and kicking the door closed behind her. Two pairs of doors and two walls are not enough to stop Matt's superhearing, but Foggy hopes Matt's pissed enough at her not to listen in.

Foggy spreads his hands and shrugs. Told you so. "I hope you didn't start convincing him by saying you think his brain is atrophying."

"I said that we're concerned for his well-being and that his refusal to do anything is making us lose sleep at night."

"Saying you think his brain is atrophying might have been better."

"Why is he like that?"

There are so many answers to that question that Foggy doesn't know where to start.

***

An hour later, after Karen has already left to go inspect a house as part of her mediation proceedings, Foggy walks over to Matt's office. Matt is talking inside, most likely on the phone, so Foggy doesn't knock and doesn't linger long enough to hear what Matt is talking about in an angry and heated tone.

***

It all comes to a head, as all things do eventually, but for some reason it happens on what would have otherwise been a very dull, very dark and very rainy Wednesday.

Matt and Karen are already in the office when Foggy comes in. Karen gives him thumbs up and a grin, and he grins back. She texted him the day before that her mediation was officially over and that the parties signed a settlement agreement, and that she billed more than he and Matt got for their last two cases combined. Foggy sometimes hates the system and capitalism, but he's also very proud of Karen, and extra cash is never a bad thing.

Matt is, predictably, locked away in his office, and the noises coming from inside suggest that he's arguing with someone. "Early start?" Foggy asks, pointing his chin at Matt's door.

Karen shrugs. "I think so. He was already in there when I came, completely ignored my 'good morning'. We need to get a secretary brave enough to go and open his door."

"Get a few more settlements like the one yesterday and we might be able to afford one." Foggy goes into their kitchen and reaches for the coffeepot. "Any word on Roddenbaum's son?"

He's been forced to eat his words about there being no connection after one of Matt's nightly excursions showed that the dog in their case was an instrument of an elaborate conspiracy launched by Roddenbaum Junior. 

"Not yet," Karen replies, "but I'm working on it."

Foggy considers suggesting getting Jessica Jones on this, dubious work ethic and all, seeing as Karen is now actively bringing in money and busy doing her mediations when the door to Matt's office opens and Matt storms out. Karen and Foggy exchange glances as Matt shakes his head and continues arguing, _with thin air_.

"Shut up, _shut up_ , you're wrong--"

Foggy abandons his coffee and takes a few steps towards Matt. "Matt, are you okay?" Matt pauses and cocks head to the side, listening, but doesn't respond and Foggy cannot be sure Matt is listening to him or that he even heard him in the first place. So he tries again. "Matthew," he says as calmly as possible, "you should--"

_Thud._

The wind is knocked out of him as his back hits the wall and he barely manages a breath before two hands grip his throat and squeeze. Matt's face is millimeters away from his, and he's furious.

"You don't have the right," Matt hisses, "to tell me what I should do."

" _Matt_..." Foggy forces out, acutely aware that he's probably going purple and that his best friend appears not to notice. "Matt, _please_."

"You don't get to order me," Matt carries on, "and you don't get to threat--"

"Matt!" Karen's scream breaks the spell and Matt blinks, confused. He looks at Foggy's face, then down at his hands still at Foggy's throat, then back at Foggy's face, and Foggy sees him pale.

"B-but--" he stammers, "Fisk--"

That doesn't make the situation any clearer. Matt looks like a deer in the headlights, frightened and paralyzed, unable to act. He's not squeezing anymore, but he doesn't let go, either.

"Buddy," Foggy whispers, "let go."

Matt's hands fall away in an instant and Foggy can breathe again. He rubs at his throat, confusion and shock still winning over fear, and he bends a little to inhale deeply. Karen rushes to his side and puts her arms around his shoulder holding him up.

"I--I..." Matt moves his lips a couple of times, unable to say anything more. If at all possible, he's even paler and more terrified than a moment ago. He sways a little unsteadily, takes a step back, and breaks into a mad run towards their front door. He's out of the office before Foggy and Karen have a chance to react.

***

His throat hurts like hell so he feels justified in drinking Karen's tea.

"What did he mean, 'Fisk'?" she asks, because that is the least terrifying of all questions she must have. Would he have snapped out of it? Would he have let go? Was he even aware?

"I don't know," Foggy admits and doesn't say that he has some suspicions. Karen wouldn't like them; hell, he doesn't like them. And shit, he sounds raspy. "I need to find him."

Karen's still so shocked that she doesn't even question the wisdom of that decision.

***

In the end, Matt never got round to thanking Karen for paying his rent and keeping his apartment _his_ during his absence, but Foggy was very glad that she did. It was a familiar and safe space for Matt that Foggy had easy access to. 

"Matt?" he calls out as he opens the door and pockets the spare key Matt once gave him and never demanded back. He drops his bag by the door and ventures further in. The light is off, as it always is, but that fucking billboard is on and bathes the place in eerie pinkish light. Matt is sitting on his couch, staring-- well, not _staring_ staring, just kind of... blankly zoning out.

Foggy sits in the armchair opposite. "Matt?" he asks again.

Blankly zoning out is not an accurate description, after all. Matt's lips are moving, he smacks them from time to time, but no sound escapes. He's still wearing the jacket he had at the office and he's picking at the hem of it, repeatedly, the same hand movement again and again.

"Matty, you're scaring the shit out of me," Foggy tells him in his still raspy voice, and this, _this_ is more terrifying than whatever it was back at the office. Foggy knows one thing for certain: it wasn't his Matt.

Matt's expression falls, his face scrunches and he sobs. "The city needs me," he says, and a sense of déjà vu hits Foggy like a sledgehammer. No, no, not that.

Fuck. This is beyond his ability to deal with fucked up shit. He pats his pockets, looking for his phone, and realises he left it in his bag. _Fuck_. He glances at Matt and his tear-streaked face and judges the probability of Matt somehow finding a way to hurt himself in the next sixty seconds as fairly low.

"I'll be right back," he tells Matt who shows no indication of having heard him. But he does suck in a sharp breath when Foggy gets up and walks towards Matt's hallway.

"Foggy, wait. Foggy... Foggy, please, Foggy, please, _please_ don't go."

In the hallway, Foggy digs his phone out and quickly dials 911. He's not sure what to tell the dispatcher so he goes with hallucinations, cannot go wrong with those, right? The guy on the other side of the line calmly tells him to make sure Matt is safe and not restrained, and to perhaps talk to him? Talk? Yeah, talk. Foggy can do talking.

He slips the phone into his pocket and walks back to the living room as calmly as possible. Panicking is only going to make things worse, the guy said. Don't panic. Don't cause Matt to panic.

Matt's not panicking, but seems dangerously close to full-blown hysteria. He's crying and shaking his head, and it takes Foggy a moment to realise that he keeps repeating 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' like a mantra.

Foggy sits on the floor in front of Matt. He doesn't quite dare sit next to him, has no idea what Matt's reaction might be, if he would even notice and if he would, would he be upset about it. Upset about it to try and choke him again? Mhm? Who knows.

"Matt," he says, soft in tone, but hard in conviction, "Matt, listen to me. It's alright. It's going to be alright. Whatever this is, we're going to deal with it. Together, right? Nelson and Murdock. For better or worse. Just hold on a little longer, we'll get this all sorted out."

***

Being listed as Matt's medical proxy is both a great thing and the worst.

When they get to the hospital Matt is dazed and unaware of what is happening, but also lucid, thankfully. He gets wheeled to neurology immediately and Foggy is left to deal with all the bureaucracy. He gets all the updates and is entitled to review Matt's medical documentation, but it is now also his thankless job of answering awkward questions like 'why does Mr. Murdock have a million scars all across his body?'

The neuro doctor that Foggy gets to talk with, Aaron Carpenter, is a no-nonsense man who gets right to it. "Mr. Murdock suffered a complex partial seizure," he says as a way of explanation and that explains exactly nothing to Foggy. "In the initial interview you said Mr. Murdock does not suffer from epilepsy."

"He doesn't."

Doctor Carpenter hmms and scribbles something in his tiny notebook. "It hasn't escaped my attention that Mr. Murdock sports some interesting scars," he comments in a very off-hand manner, but from the way he pauses in his scribbling and focuses on Foggy's answer it's clear that he considers that answer important.

Foggy was dreading that question and practiced several ways of approaching it. His answer has to make it clear that Matt is not doing anything illegal and that nothing illegal is being done _to_ him. Foggy knows the statistics on disabled victims of abuse and he knows that Matt would hate to be seen as one. Foggy briefly flirted with the idea of embarrassing the doctor out of this line of questioning by suggesting Matt is a part of some BDSM sex dungeon group, but again, Matt would probably hate that (no matter the fact that, going by what Foggy knows about Elektra, Matt probably would be into that).

What he goes with is, "Extreme sports."

Carpenter blinks. "Excuse me?"

"Matt is a big fan of extreme sports," Foggy presses on. "You know. Zip-lining. Horseback riding, surfing. He also, he also trains aikido and jiu-jitsu."

Carpenter looks up from his tiny notebook and fixes Foggy with the most disbelieving stare he can. Foggy sticks his chin out and stares back, daring him to make a comment about Matt's blindness making these things impossible. Foggy has spent the first fifteen minutes in the hospital furiously googling all his possibilities and he can pull receipts on blind people being able to do all of that.

Carpenter looks away first. He clears his throat. "So am I right in assuming that Mr. Murdock might have a history of head trauma?"

God bless you, Aaron Carpenter, for suggesting it first. "Yes," Foggy replies.

Carpenter nods and makes a note. "We've already done an EEG, we have a CT scan running and an MRI scheduled next. I will keep you informed."

***

"How are you feeling?"

Matt swallows thickly before saying, "Not bad, overall." He's been confused when they brought him in, apparently had no memory of coming to his apartment or of the seizure itself. And only a vague memory of what happened back at the office. "How are you?"

Foggy shrugs. "Can't say these chairs are comfortable."

"Foggy," Matt admonishes, making it clear that that wasn't what he was asking about.

"My throat is fine."

Matt closes his eyes and turns his face away, grimacing. His memory of what happened at the office is vague, but he remembers the moment he realised he was choking Foggy vividly. _Joy_. "I'm sorry," he says, for the ninth time, because he's apparently unable to remember that he'd already apologised and that Foggy had already forgiven him. At this point Foggy is unsure if it's Matt's sense of Catholic guilt or Matt's fried brain making that impossible.

"It's alright," Foggy assures him, "no harm done."

They lapse into a silence not exactly uncomfortable, but also not friendly. "Is Karen scared of me?"

"No. I called her when we got to the hospital and they told me what was going on, explained that you had a seizure. Not your fault." Foggy conveniently omitted to mention that Matt's seizure happened after the incident at the office and was not directly related to it. Karen was able to guess as much, but Foggy wasn't going to mention that either. No point in making this worse on Matt than it already was.

"Do they know what's wrong with me?"

Foggy shakes his head. "Not yet. They're analysing their results, trying to find an answer. We'll know as soon as they do."

"You think my brain is atrophying." It wasn't a question.

Ah. So he was listening in after all. "We don't know that."

"But that's what you think," Matt continues, agitated." You think that repeated head trauma caused that. You think it's because of--"

"Your fondness for extreme sports," Foggy finishes, aware that they were in a hospital and that Big Brother might be watching. "That... that is a possibility."

"But I'm fine."

"Clearly you're not." Foggy scoots his chair closer to Matt's bed and pitches his voice lower. "You had a whole fucking _building_ collapse on top of your head and never got looked over by a doctor. No one is just fine after something like that. Add to that getting bashed in the head by criminals every other night? Yeah, I think traumatic brain injury is likely." Matt whimpers, so Foggy carries on, "But I'm also a lawyer, not a neurologist. So don't worry about what I think and let's wait for official word, okay?"

***

"How was Mr. Murdock blinded?" Carpenter asks Foggy when he's out of Matt's room, getting himself a coffee and purposefully ignoring Marci's calls. It's not like he has a good explanation.

"He had an accident when he was a child," Foggy says, feeling like he's already explained this to one of the nurses. "Got knocked over on the street and had some chemicals splash in his eyes."

"And he hasn't been able to see ever since?"

"Yes," Foggy tells him, which is the absolute truth, but is also, in a way, a complete lie.

"Mhm," Carpenter comments and leaves Foggy alone.

***

They're on the phone with Karen, laughing over a story Karen's telling them, when Carpenter walks into Matt's room with another doctor in tow.

"I'll have to call you back," Foggy says quickly and disconnects. Then he adds, to keep up appearances, "Matt, the doctors are here."

Carpenter clears his throat. "Mr. Murdock, I'm Doctor Aaron Carpenter and this is Doctor Frank Ketterson. We would like to talk to you." Carpenter glances at Foggy. "We can do it in private if you'd prefer."

Matt's hand finds Foggy's and squeezes. Foggy looks first at their clasped hands, then at Matt's face – and he'd look calm and collected to anyone who doesn't know him, but Foggy _does_ know him so he sees that Matt is scared – and squeezes back. _Don't worry_ , he tries to convey, and, _together_.

"I'd prefer Foggy to stay."

"We've reviewed the results of your tests and scans," Carpenter says and Foggy sucks in a breath, readying himself for some terrible news. Matt's brain is a mush. He's suffering from cerebral infarction caused by one of his numerous traumatic brain injuries. He's going to start forgetting who he is. He's going to stop being Matt. He's going to fall into a coma one day. He's going to die.

"--no necrotic tissue in the brain," Carpenter continues. "However, we did find lesions between the temporal and parietal lobes and infringing on the occipital lobe. Doctor Ketterson," here Ketterson bows his head, "is our chief of oncology, he will answer any questions your have."

Foggy blinks, convinced that he's misheard something. No necrotic tissue in the brain is a good thing, right? But lesions sound bad. And-- "What exactly are you saying?"

It's Ketterson who replies, and he addresses Matt even though he's answering Foggy's question. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Murdock, but we found tumors in your brain."

***

Ketterson breaks out a model of the human brain and starts explaining, about the different lobes and their functions, about where the tumors are and what symptoms they might cause. He makes it clear that the tumor would have been detected earlier had Matt not been already blind as it was pressing on the optic nerve and in an able-bodied person it would _cause_ vision impairment. That's how most cases got to them, Ketterson told them, people just lost their vision one day. But for Matt, he didn't go through that.

"How lucky for me," Matt says, but his sarcasm is lost on Ketterson, the oncologist so absorbed in his own lecture.

Foggy tunes out most of it, only catching a word here or there. Mostly he just focuses on the _what the fuck_ aspect of this revelation. How. How can Matt have a brain tumor. He and Karen were worried he was getting hit in the head too much. A tumor? Never in a million years. But – he got splashed with radioactive chemicals, should Foggy even be surprised? In comic books, radioactive chemicals gave you superpowers. In real live, they gave you cancer.

Matt nods every three minutes during Ketterson's lecture and Foggy isn't sure he's listening either. Ketterson droned on about sensory centre in the brain, the affect of the lesions on the frontal lobe, the size of it, about how no one might have spotted it for another decade or so had Matt not come in and got tested for brain injury.

"A decade?" Foggy asks. "Is that how long you think he's had it?"

Ketterson shurgs one shoulder. "Might be even longer," he admits. "These things can grow old and large before they give any symptoms."

"Is it life-threatening?"

Ketterson takes a moment to answer. "It will be," he says in the end. "My recommendation would be surgical removal."

"And if I decline?" Matt asks quietly.

Kettersons tsks. "Then monitoring, with regular MRIs to make sure it doesn't get worse too quickly. But there is no good reason to wait. We gain nothing by waiting and can only loose in the long run, if it turns malignant or spreads too far."

"Thank you, doctor," Matt says in a clear dismissal. Ketterson bows his head again, grabs his model of the human brain and exits, leaving Matt pensive and Foggy angry.

"What do you mean, 'decline'?" he snaps. "You have a brain tumor, Matt. It's not something you can just dismiss and forget about. This is serious."

"You heard what he said," Matt argues. "I've had it for years. And I'm fine."

"You've been hallucinating Fisk strongly enough to try and hurt people," Foggy shoots at him and Matt's head dropping lower tells him he'd hit bullseye. "How long have you been seeing things?"

"Not long after Midland Circle," Matt admits. "Ever since Fisk was let out. And it's always him. And, _God_ , Foggy, I'm so _sorry_ , I don't know what--"

"We do know," Foggy interrupts him gently. Matt's mouth snaps close. "Karen and I thought your brain was going mush. But this is so much worse."

"I don't want a surgery."

"You're not _fine_! Why are you so stubborn!"

"It's not that!" Matt takes a slow breath. "The oncologist said that the tumor is pressing on the sensory centres. What if _that_ is the reason I can... do my stuff?"

"You mean your powers?" Matt nods. "If that's true then we'll figure out a way to help you live without them."

"I don't want to live without them."

"You'd rather not live at all?"

"It wouldn't be a life, Foggy. My senses allow me to be _me_. I wouldn't be able to go out without them."

Foggy's eyes narrow and he purses his lips into a thin flat line, almost white in anger. A good thing Matt cannot see, because in that moment, Foggy looks terrifying. "Is that what this is about? _Daredeviling_?" Matt hisses at Foggy's reckless use of the verb, but Foggy is past caring. "You know, I can convince myself that I'm okay with you going out at night and risking your life because there you're in a fight and maybe, maybe you'll be lucky. But this is different. This is you, being sick and refusing treatment on the off chance that you might lose some freaky supersenses that you could have a perfectly normal life without."

"I'm doing good things, Foggy." Matt waves his hands as he says this, animated and passionate, way more than he's been about their recent cases. "I help people. I'm _needed_."

Foggy shakes his head. They've had this conversation before. They've had this exact argument before and it ended with him slamming the door shut on his way out. He's not going to do that this time – if only because he'd get thrown out of the hospital for slamming doors like that – but he also knows that he's not going to win. There is no winning here, not with this. He hates it, but he's accepted that. No, not accepted. He's resigned himself to it.

"You'll do what you want," he tells Matt in order to shut down the bubbling explosion. Matt looks confused, as if he's not sure if Foggy's sudden surrender is a good omen or a sign of some masterplan.

***

Matt gets himself checked out of the hospital as soon as he can and comes back to work a day later.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Karen," he asks of Foggy. "I'll tell her myself, when I'm ready."

***

It's mostly good days after that. They actually manage to put Roddenbaum Senior and Junior away for attempted murder, a far cry from their initial assessment of the case. Karen brings in several thousand dollars for her last mediation and they finally have enough money to hire a secretary. Alyssa is nice if a bit of an air-head.

Matt has not told Karen, despite his promise to do so, and Foggy can feel the mood in the office shift as once again there are secrets being kept and missteps to cover. One day Matt doesn't come in to work, and when Foggy goes over to check up on him, he's sitting on the floor with his head between his knees. 

Foggy taps him on the shoulder and barely manages to dodge a punch. It becomes clear in a moment that Matt can't hear. It takes little time to convey his identity, and when he does, Foggy sits down next to Matt, puts an arm around Matt's shoulders and lets Matt curl into him. Even later, he taps 'what happened?' on Matt's Braille display.

"Was pushed down the stairs," Matt says in Foggy's general direction, "hit my head a little. Lost hearing. It'll come back, same thing happened with Frank Castle."

Foggy spends the rest of the day with Matt, and by the time evening comes, his hearing has indeed returned. Foggy makes no comment and Matt also pretends everything is exactly like it should.

They don't tell Karen about that either.

***

"This is bullshit," Karen says as she slams her mug down. "I thought we promised, no more secrets."

"We did," Foggy agrees.

"And?"

He shakes his head. "No matter how much I'd want to, it's really not my place to tell you."

***

This time, it's a Friday, a goddamn _Friday_ which should be fun and nice, because the weather is good again and it's the beginning of weekend. But it's not, it's not nice and fun, and Foggy comes in to work to find Matt sitting awkwardly by their kitchen table with a mug of steaming tea in his hands and Karen hovering above him in a half concerned, half predatory manner. Alyssa is nowhere in sight.

Foggy has a bad feeling about it.

"What happened?" he asks as he drops his briefcase on the floor.

Karen taps her foot. "Are you going to tell him or do you want me to do it?" When Matt doesn't answer, she carries on, "He almost got himself killed today. I was on my way to the office, saw Matt coming from the opposite direction, when he stopped. Just, stopped, dead in his tracks. And then," she takes a shaky breath, "and then he suddenly changed direction and almost walked in front of a moving car. Good thing I was close-by, I ran to him and pulled him back. I couldn't get him to focus for a good minute, it was like he... blanked out."

Foggy glares at Matt, and Matt must sense the scrutiny he's under because he seems to shrink, curls in on himself. Ah. So. Another seizure. "Okay," Foggy says, "are you going to tell her or do you want me to do it?"

This time, Matt reacts. "My brain is not turning to mush, Karen," he says while blowing on his hot tea. "I just have a tumor."

***

If nothing else, almost walking in front of a moving car seemed to work wonders as a wake-up call.

Karen brought clothes and Matt's electronics with her, but left after Matt told her he doesn't want her to worry. Marci didn't stop by and didn't call, but Foggy found a little bottle of a disgusting liquor that she and Matt are inexplicably fond of hidden in a plushie dragon that she stuffed in his briefcase and told him to give to Matt. Foggy smiles; she cares about Matt, in her own way.

The dragon – sans the bottle – is now sitting on the little table beside Matt's bed, on which Matt is sitting in a hospital gown, pale and scared but also surprisingly _zen_. Maybe the meditation helped; Danny Rand has stopped by a couple of hours earlier and spent a good forty minutes of his time with Matt humming with his eyes closed. Foggy would be tempted to get annoyed if Danny Rand hadn't also brought a team of world-class neurosurgeons whose job was to make sure Matt's precious brain leaves the OR in mint condition.

"Nervous?" Foggy asks. He himself is terrified. Pissing his pants. Literal urine in them.

"Not really," Matt replies. "Just thinking."

Foggy squeezes his hand. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you've decided to do it."

"I got scared," Matt admits, "I got scared that something like that might happen when I'm out. That I'll space out in a fight and someone will get killed."

"Or you'll get killed," Foggy adds and Matt only waves that away as an irrelevant concern. Self-sacrificing tendencies, check. Foggy wonder if they'll be gone after. "What if you lose them?"

He doesn't have to specify. Matt knows. "I recall you saying you'd help me find a way to live without them."

"Well, I'm glad that registered."

"I won't be of much use or worth though."

Carpenter, Ketterson and the team of Danny's doctors come into the room. Carpenter nods, signaling that it's time. Foggy takes one last moment to comfort Matt, he leans in and kisses the top of his head. "You're worth more to us and to the world as an alive hot mess blind Matt Murdock," he whispers into Matt's hair, "than you are as a dead Daredevil."

***

Nine and a half hours later, Foggy is allowed back into Matt's room.

"He won't be awake for a couple more hours," Carpenter informs him as he takes his seat next to Matt's bed. "But I can tell you that it went without a hitch. The tumor's gone. Mr. Murdock is going to be perfectly fine."

"Thank you," Foggy says. Carpenter nods at him and leaves him alone. Foggy's fingertips ghost over the bandages on Matt's head, then his hand drops. "Did you hear that? They got it all out, you're going to wake up fine."

Perfectly fine. Perfectly fine by normal people standards or by Matt standards. He wonders what Carpenter would have said if he knew about Matt's freaky supersenses. Would he corroborate that they were caused by the tumor? That they were not? Would he even believe in them?

A couple more hours. A couple more hours and Matt will wake up and they'll know if he can still hear through walls and floors, if he'll still be able to listen to Foggy's heart and hear no lie in the carefully worded 'I'm happy you're good now', or if his hearing is now ordinary people normal. He wonders if Matt will wake up to his world on fire. He wonders who the Matt who wakes up will be and if he will be a person Foggy recognizes at all.

There's a bead of sweat on Matt's nose and Foggy moves to wipe it. He should call Karen and tell her the surgery went well. He should. He will. Later.

Matt no longer has any hair for Foggy to run a hand through, and he's not supposed to be touching his head in the first place. Foggy sighs. Whatever happens, happens, and they will find a way to deal with that. If Matt wakes up without his senses and his superhero career is toast, Foggy will do his best to make sure he doesn't miss it. And if Matt wakes up in full possession of them and carries on with his inadvisable, brain-injuring hobby, well - they'll deal with all the consequences of that too. 

He squeezes Matt's limp hand instead, strokes the back of it with his thumb. "You're going to wake up alive," he tells Matt, and that is the only thing that matters.


End file.
